But stopt, for fear, thus violently driv’n, The sparks should catch his axle-tree of Heav’n.
an axletree is a beam that connects
two wheels of a carriage in order to
make them turn simultaneously
the suggestion here is that Heaven
is intimately connected to the earth,
both interwoven parts of a functioning,
and interdependent, mechanism
Remembring in the fates, a time when fire Shou’d to the battlements of Heaven aspire, And all his blazing worlds above shou’d burn; And all th’ inferior globe to cinders turn.
His dire artill’ry thus dismist, he bent His thoughts to some securer punishment: Concludes to pour a watry deluge down; And what he durst not burn, resolves to drown.
The northern breath, that freezes floods, he binds; With all the race of cloud-dispelling winds: The south he loos’d, who night and horror brings;
to set in motion his scheme, Jove
enlists, or binds, the winds, [t]he
northern breath, and [t]he south
wind, both of which apply their
own destructive methods
And foggs are shaken from his flaggy wings.
flaggy, in layers, feathers upon
feathers, Jove is represented
here, however unusually, with
wings
From his divided beard two streams he pours, His head, and rheumy eyes distill in show’rs, With rain his robe, and heavy mantle flow: And lazy mists are lowring on his brow;
the water that will lay waste the
earth flows from Jove’s very
physical attributes, his divided
beard, his rheumy eyes, his
brow, et cetera
Still as he swept along, with his clench’d fist He squeez’d the clouds,
not only does Jove exude a flow
of water through divine, though
intrinsically viable coroporeal
avenues, but he also actively
promotes it, squeez[ing] the
veryclouds
but
th’ imprison’d clouds resist:
however
The skies, from pole to pole, with peals resound; And show’rs inlarg’d, come pouring on the ground.
February, for instance, in Vancouver
Then, clad in colours of a various dye, Junonian Iris breeds a new supply To feed the clouds:
impetuous rain descends; The bearded corn beneath the burden bends: Defrauded clowns deplore their perish’d grain; And the long labours of the year are vain.